Flotsam

I saw some flotsam floating by Or maybe it was jetsam. Whichever one it was, I know The river always gets some. It’s strange that if I’d spotted it On sidewalk, road or street, It would have just been detritus That I had chanced to meet. But floating cast-offs seem to take A step up on the scale, For, carried by the currents, They’re explorers setting sail. And where they’ll settle, we can’t know But out there on the sea, Unlike the city’s litter, They are rambling and free.